


Dave: Investigate Sounds

by ShyPumpkin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkward Sex, Consent, Humor, M/M, Mind Control, PWP, Rimming, Second person POV, Voyeurism, Xenobiology, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyPumpkin/pseuds/ShyPumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are currently investigating STRANGE NOISES that have been emerging from your bathroom for an INEXPLICABLE AMOUNT OF TIME.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is DAVE STRIDER ( _Incarnation: 69, Status: Dead_ ) and you are currently investigating STRANGE NOISES that have been emerging from YOUR BATHROOM for quite some time. You seem to think that the noises "sound like the joneses dog whining when left outside with nothing but a fucking canine party hat as mrs jones wastes the day away pretending a summer disco party can revert her back to seventeen and make her into the dancing queen"

Your investigation has been going smoothly and you have obtained a LIST OF SUSPECTS. It is currently populated with a single individual, TAVROS NITRAM, the unforgivably dorky yin to your unspeakably awesome yang, who has been crashing at your place for "fuck knows how long," as there is no real coherent sense of the time in "this fantasy bubble coughed up from the hellish depths of those tentacled assholes."

The noises started briefly after Tavros entered the bathroom and have been steadily crescendoing since. Now that you feel that you have a good handle on whodunnit in your official noise investigation, you must establish what the noises are prior to incarceration and punishment. You have made GREAT STRIDES in your investigation of _what they are_ through SMIRKING, LEANING CAREFULLY NEXT TO THE DOOR WITHOUT MAKING A SOUND, and placing your HAND unforgivably close to your CROTCH, which you assure yourself is IRRELEVANT TO THE SITUATION.

As the MESSIAH OF COOL, and therefore, very well versed in what all the cool kids are doing these days (and, apparently the not so cool kids), you are well aware of what the noises are, but ending your INVESTIGATION now would mean basing it off of ASSUMPTIONS and that is not permissible. You must first collect HARD EVIDENCE, which can only come from seeing the noises being made, firsthand. You gained this insight and other crazy shit involving justice from a BATSHIT INSANE BLIND GIRL FROM ANOTHER UNIVERSE and you are secretly glad that you did. Very secretly.

The PANTING and MOANING emerging from the crack under the closed bathroom door have turned into slightly louder RHYTHMIC WHIMPERS. This calls for further exploration.

==> Dave: Open Door

Opening the door would ruin this moment and destroy the potential for seeing this miraculous spectacle firsthand, dunkass. The sounds might stop as soon as the door opens. Then you could lack the evidence you need for the PUNISHMENT OF THIS CRIME and you know that these noises mean the maker should SERVE HARD TIME. You refuse to touch the door, but move in slightly closer. This helps you no more than before to UNCOVER THE MYSTERY.

==> Dave: Be suddenly overcome with distress

You are near incapable of being overcome by distress because of your INTERNAL POKER FACE of LEVEL 46, which just so happens to be all of the levels. Yes, all of them. Instead, you are hit with a SILENT WAVE OF INTROSPECTION concerning your HARSH THOUGHTS ON JUSTICE.

It occurs to you that your FASCINATION WITH JUSTICE began when you and your friends began playing SBURB. You came to realize its dire importance and began noting very quickly when things were COMPLETELY ILLEGAL. As a result, you attempted to UPHOLD THE MORAL LAW OF SKAIA, regardless of not actually knowing it yourself. You did not need to, as you BECAME THE LAW. You are UNSURE OF THE SOURCE OF YOUR LEGALITY FETISH, but you are sure that it is all YOUR OWN AWESOME DOING. It only makes sense that your status as THE LAW should carry over into death.

You are jolted back to reality by the sound of Tavros (or so you believe) taking in a sharp breath and letting out a loud, breathy moan. You begin to VISUALIZE the possible noise source and are hit with VERY STIRRING VISUALS involving your lanky twink of a bubblemate. You begin to imagine him leaning his back up against your sink, his black cotton pants around his ankles as his hand grips a large meaty tentacle cock, sliding up and down and really working it. The sounds from before make you wonder if his capable of penetrating himself with his own hypothetical tentacle dick as he fondled his horns or some other "freaky alien shit that would only turn someone on ironically." You are apparently feeling pretty ironic today.

You start to smirk, wondering what possible PUNISHMENTS are the best for "first-degree spam porpoise slapping with a side of alien asshole penetration action," and "jacking it in your bros home without first sending a request and an invite to the show."

==> Dave: Get back on that evidence

Your imagination and introspection has gotten you NO FURTHER in your investigation. You try to chalk it up to lunch break, but deep down you know "the times are tight belinda you cant just be rouging up your big lips for five minutes when the big mans already in the office."

You suddenly hear the distinct gut-wrenching sound of HORNS SCRATCHING UP YOUR MIRROR with a distinct "uHH, sHIT,"

Looks like the squad just got called out. This one might be a winner.

==> Dave: Carefully nudge door with toe while the mirror scratcher is distracted by his crime

You are unsure of what this "toe" is, how it has anything to do with "nudging," or who this "Dave" character is. You are too busy being the door. You are not a REAL door, of course. Oh no. Rather you are a MEMORY FIGMENT of what used to be a FINE DOOR. Many philosophers would point to this and ask "if this was my grandfather's door, replaced completely by an identical duplicate fabricated from memory, would it still be my grandfather's door?" The correct answer to that question, as far as you are concerned, is "fuck you and open me."

==> Door: Swing open

You are incapable of swinging open of your own will. In fact, the GREAT SECRET OF DOORKIND handed down throughout centuries dictates that you DO NOT OPEN UNLESS FORCED. It is the way you must be. Or, at least, the way you are right now considering the gray boy locked you to conceal his LEWD BEHAVIORS. Anyway, why would you need to open? All inhabitants in the bubble are already in the bathroom.

==> Be Past Dave from 2 minutes ago

Who else would you be? You have obviously made the superior choice, dude. Your current goal is to SEEK A NEW VANTAGE POINT in order to unearth the crime of the GREAT WANKERING and MIRROR DESTRUCTION INCIDENT. You cannot go through the door at this point in time, considering the loud noises have resumed, now with more thumping.

You are pretty chill with all this, however. You have a solution. Maybe this would be a problem for someone else, but not for you.

==> Dave: Go back in time, go through the door, and hide behind the shower curtains

That sounds like the behavior of a creep that you would find lurking in the boy's changing room at the mall. To you, that just sounds like the behavior of YOUR BRO and therefore NORMAL.

Thankfully, time shit still appears works here. You are now in the shower, hidden behind the curtain. Surely, this criminal will be BROUGHT TO JUSTICE.

Your bubblemate Tavros enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him.

==>Dave: Ponder the puppets piled in the shower

You look down at the pile of SMUPPETS your brother so lovingly left you in the SHOWER. They stare up at you with a certain PERVERTED INTENT that you can't pretend doesn't creep you the fuck out. Perhaps if you were not APPREHENDING A CRIMINAL, you might feel like your intents were similar to those of the smuppets. However, you have an INTENT FOR JUSTICE like Scruff McGruff has a nose for crime. Any accusations of your intent not being justice based are nothing more than LIES and the accusers deserve to be BANISHED. Since these puppets seem to ACCUSE you, you suddenly have the desire to BANISH them. Maybe if you focus you can remember a time when the puppets weren't in the tub and you can change your bubble environment to that time.

==>Dave: Focus to make the smuppets go away

You cannot, as the puppets have always been in your shower. In fact, Bro had them mounted into the tub floor and along the shower walls long before you can remember. You had always been relieved that they were face-side rather than ass-side out, but now their eyes are beginning to unnerve you. For the first time ever, you wished it was plush rump and not penis nose that lined your shower walls.

You are brought back to reality when you are almost BEAMED IN THE FACE with TROLL HORNS. With a frown, you back up against the plush shower wall and reposition yourself away from those horns of mass destruction. You hear the sound of pants unzipping and forget about the smuppet dick-nose on your face by being overcome by a THIRST FOR JUSTICE and a large SURGE IN YOUR PANTS. This is it. It's happening bro.

You croon your neck to look around the shower curtain, annoyed that your shades aren't CONDUCIVE TO EVIDENCE COLLECTION. What you can see, however, is not what you were expecting.

Tavros seems very focused on his breathing and you hold in a snicker, knowing he will abandon that soon enough. Your eyes travel down his body and find his hand on what appears to be a completely normal-- albeit gray-- cock. He begins humming softly to himself and you note that it is "When You Wish Upon a Star." Jegus, is it even possible for him to be a bigger doofus? You are trying very hard to hold in your laughter. Your eyes return to scanning his body and you stiffen as you really focus on his alien fiesta stick. Oh gog.

You stop yourself from thinking about some joke about "you know what they say about a man with big oblong horns" and stray even farther from "jeez bro are all trolls hung like their fucking spirit animal." Still, you wonder if that's as big as it gets.

Unconsciously, your eyes travel up your bubblemate's body again, but your eyes snap back down to his crotch in confusion when he puts his meaty wondermaker away. You knew how this shit was going to go down, didn't you?

==> Dave: Be Tavros

You are now TAVROS NITRAM. You are currently in the human version of a LIQUID WASTE SECRETION UNIT, known to them as a BATHROOM. You are currently WASHING YOUR HANDS and SMILING LIKE A DOFUS at yourself in THE MIRROR. You are having a PRETTY GOOD DAY, if you can consider the entire time you've been dead as a day. You have made a NEW FRIEND, who often COMES ONTO YOU through what you would assume to be a LARGE NETWORK OF CULTURAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS. You are unsure of why you still secrete liquid waste following your death, but you would assume it has something to do with your NERVOUS LIQUID SECRETION SAC.

======>Tavros: Retrospect on what triggered your nervous bladder

You are unsure of what a "bladder" is, but you can tell us what made your liquid secretion sac nervous this particular time, if that's alright.

======>Tavros: Stop being picky about the terminology and just tell the story

You and DAVE, the aforementioned NEW FRIEND, had been playing video games. He was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor because "those horns take up enough room to form a posse." As such, Dave has taken to calling you "tav and the boys," "the square and his pointy band," and other equally weird and confusing nicknames.

Dave has a KNACK for HUMAN SEXUAL INNUENDO that often makes you "uHH, a LITTLE BIT, uNCOMFORTABLE," but also makes you "nOT UNHAPPY, rEPULSED, oR ANYTHING LIKE THAT," In fact, it normally makes your blood pump skip a thump and occasionally that blood goes right to your BONE BULGE. You have never been in a relationship before and the prospect of one starting always makes you FREEZE UP and STAMMER. It does not help that you are unsure of what to make of the sincerity of his advances, so normally you try your BEST to IGNORE THEM.

This time your BEST WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

You had been losing that weird human game again. You seemed to lose perpetually, but you contend that's because Dave just had "wEIRD AND REALLY VIOLENT GAMES THAT DON'T REALLY MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD," Normally, Dave just let you keep losing, but this time on your seventeenth failed attempt to infiltrate enemy territory, Dave paused the game. You crooned your neck back, your head sinking slowly into the plush couch cushion behind you and you looked up at his ever-expresionless visage. "i dont know why we even play this shit when you seem to think its about merrily skipping around exploring the landscape like youre a lumberjack and its okay."

That comment, like most of Dave's, had confused you to no end, but you understood the sentiment. You were still doing it wrong. You frowned and set your controller down, knowing that games were probably done for now and you would probably have to try some other time to impress him. "sORRY, i WAS BUSY THINKING AGAIN," His eyebrow shot up at that. "aLSO, i AM A LITTLE THIRSTY, mAYBE i SHOULD GO GET SOMETHING TO DRINK FROM THE THERMAL HUB," You stood to go, but he swiftly leaned forward and grabbed "the pointy band," pulling your head back down onto the couch. His face hovered a mere 3 inches above yours and you froze. Perfect pink lips loomed immediately above you. _Thump thump thump._ " cmon nitram get your head in the game its hard to capture the flag when youre too busy wondering what dress to wear to the ball tonight or whatever the hell else goes on in that large head of yours"

You said nothing in reply, too terrified, instead staring closely at his soft pale skin, your heart beating out of control in your ears. He leaned down closer, his tongue sliding slowly over his lips and you shivered. You stayed rigid, half-incoherent thoughts flying through your head at a million miles an hour, aching for those lips to collide with your own. It felt like an eternity before either of you moved and you finally gathered up enough pride to speak, "dAVE, wHAT, uHH-"

He trailed his fingers down the tips of your horns, along the main length, and finally against where they met your scalp. "is there a problem man." Slowly, he stroked the base of your horn and your mouth fell open.

"n, nO, i JUST," Again, he rubbed at the base, this time a little harder. Trying to hold in a shiver, you keened into his hand and he pressed back even harder. "hNNG, dA, dAVE," His poker face fell momentarily into an expression of shock and, just like that, his hands were gone. He quickly contorted his face into an imperfect deadpan tainted by the growing red stains on his cheeks. Your head throbbed and every nerve in your body was busy standing at attention, your blood pump sinking to your stomach, wishing he would reach out and touch you like that once more.

"heh you like that huh" The smugness in his tone shocked you.

"wH, wHAT," You stammered, not knowing what the hell had just happened. His smirk grew wider and you sank your claws into his carpet, kneeding nervously. His head nodded at your crotch and it felt like the whole world went still. _Your bulge._

"it seems you need a little help" Your eyes snapped down to your growing, uhh, problem and you quickly pushed yourself up off of the floor, dismissing yourself with a poorly veiled "i, uHH, jUST NEED TO VISIT YOUR LIQUID WASTE SECRETION ROOM," Thankfully, the embarrassment had alerted your bulge that no action would come of that moment, and had just filled you with the URGENT NEED to rid yourself of LIQUID WASTE.

Now, here you are.

You begin focus on your reflection again. That memory got you worked up. Again. You just have to close your eyes and breathe.

Instead, you begin to remember the feeling of his fingers running slowly down your horns and brushing against your scalp and how much you "liked that." You can feel the blood shooting to your crotch again.

======>Tavros: Consider the fact that feelings are hard and no one understands

You frown and look down at the sink, failing to make eye contact with yourself. Who are you kidding? Dave doesn't mean anything by it. He is most likely just MESSING WITH YOUR HEAD in order to see you writhe. It seems your mind does not agree, for, from the depths of your brain, an ANGEL'S CHORUS begins to play.

Your eyes raise slowly to look at the reflection in the mirror and you swear that you can see an OLDER, SUAVER VERSION of YOURSELF in the reflection. A wild RUFIO has appeared. RUFIO'S VOICE booms in your head, "He's showing the signs of being flushed for you; you just have to believe! Don't get so down, my little friend! Charge ahead!" In support of his claims, Rufio offers the PILES OF EVIDENCE you have been collecting for Dave's potential flushcrush on you. Rufio seems intent on hammering one memory in particular into your head. Under his guidance, you begin to REMINISCE.

Some time ago, you had been watching a shitty movie when Dave wordlessly patted the cushion beside him. After quite a debacle with your horns, you both finally managed to fit on the couch when Dave slid so that his head was beneath your horns. Not five minutes after you had gotten situated, Dave stretched, wrapping his arm around your back and squeezing your shoulder. You began to stammer nervously, but he put his finger against your lips, crooning softly, "ssh only bad movies now ssshhh" His fingers dropped, trailing slowly down your neck before resting against your abdomen, and you swallowed hard. It seemed Dave wouldn't let up, though, as his other hand began moving up and down your arm sent delicate jolts of pleasure up your spine. The thumping of your heart in your ears was so loud you couldn't focus on the movie any longer. At the end, he ran his fingers up the back of your neck, softly pushing up your hair and then smoothing it again. By the time he stood up and left the room, your entire body was tingling and you were a mess.

That was far from the only time. Your bulge throbs as you think about the time he began whispering in your ear, tugging at the pointed part of the lobe with his lips. A shiver runs up your spine as the time he dragged your shirt over your head just to "see how that shit works" and took the opportunity to rub the nubs left by your vestigal legs. You remember the sensation of his soft fingers running slowly over the bumps, rubbing and caressing them carefully, in and out of every indent in your body. Your pulse escalates as you think about the time he rubbed every kink out of your back in what was called a "human massage," his oil-slicked fingers trailing all over your back. Not being able to take the sudden influx of memories anymore, you have taken to PALMING YOURSELF THROUGH YOUR PANTS and are listening closely to see if Dave is waiting. Luckily for your THROBBING ERECTION, it sounds like he has started another game and you can get away with taking some one on one time with Tav Junior.

It has been quite some time since you last relieved yourself. The last time was when you were in your own bubble. You begin to question whether here and now is the right time and place, but you decide that you can just make it quick.

You take in a deep breath and your fingers shake as you undo the button of your pants. You push them down just enough to grab the base of your bulge and you shiver. You let go and slide your fingers past your bulge, brushing them along the entrance to your nook. Slickening fluid drips from it down you hand and you shudder. You haven't been this turned on in a long time. Even if you don't relieve yourself, you'll already need to rinse off your nook to make sure the lube doesn't stain your pants. It seems you really need it.

==> Shower Dave: Watch in fascination

You have just finished watching your bubblemate sing A GLORIOUS HYMN softly before talking to his reflection in a FAUX DEEP VOICE. You raise an eyebrow at the spectacle. You have no clue in hell as to how he got "such good shit" or what kind of bizarre trip that "good shit" was sending him on, although apparently it included not only an exclusive tour for one down schizo lane, but also a ticket for one lithe Troll Back to meet a certain Fine Door, and an all expenses-paid vacation to exotic Cockland Village for one eager hand.

You may not have been invited to this exclusive event, but you guess you must be in the hypothetical bushes immediately outside of Cockland Village (you note quickly that in fact, Tavros does not have a bush over his junk, so that metaphor is not nearly as creepy as it could be). You watch intently as his hand runs the length of that thick spectacle of a cock that you had thought was massive before, but seeing it now sends bolts of envy to your crotch. Against all logic and laws of nature, it somehow managed to get even bigger, the tip now rubbing and writhing against his lower abdomen. Back the fuck up- _writhing?_

You had thought he was just uncut before, but it seems that what you had assumed to be normal foreskin was actually a sheath for something alarmingly tentacle-esque. Tentacle- _esque_? Scratch that. It bended and curled like a tentacle. It squirmed like a tentacle. It slowly tapered off to a slimy tip. It has soft ridges all the way up the edge like you would assume the sex industry would design to market as a "sex tentacle for her pleasure- now with more bumps!" It was covered in a thin sticky brown film, which you figured must be some kind of lube, as the parts that glistened the most allowed for Tavros's fingers to slide over the quickest. It was, for all intensive purposes, a tentacle. What you had been staring at before was merely the sheath; the real site to behold was the thick, bumpy, self-lubricating tentacle cock. Oh jegus.

Your throat goes dry as Tavros lets out a soft moan. His fingers are sliding up the length of his unsheathed tentacle slowly, taking careful measures to squeeze the girth a little tighter after every ridge. He pinches the tip and his mouth drops ajar silently before he slides his hand back down across the ridges again. Without stopping his ministrations, he slides his back down the door and sits on the bathroom floor, his horns just barely missing really fucking up the sink. He begins to buck and your eyes widen behind the shades- is he...? No, it would seem that was some kind of failed clumsy attempt at kicking his pants off. After another hilarious spectacle of writhing and kicking, he loses round two against the pants. You could not be more happy that you are here for this show. With a gasp, he finally takes his hand off his bulge and removes the stubborn piece of clothing. Without missing a beat, he squeezes the base of his arousal again.

In the back of your mind, a small voice attempts to keep you on track; _You're just waiting for the mirror scratching incident, then you'll stop watching. This is evidence._ You brush it off with a silent nod and watch Tavros spread his legs as far open as possible, exposing himself entirely on your floor.

Normally, you might just find it in you to smirk and make some joke about how predictable that a guy like him has no balls, but rather you are captivated by the fact that he has not two holes- one immediately below his tentacle where you thought his balls WOULD be and the one you were expecting. Upon closer inspection, you note that the entire area is covered with the same lube-like substance that coated his cock. He probably is really easy to-

Oh fuck no. Not going there. No. You try to push the thought away and succeed, but only because you notice him carefully bending down and attempting to lick the tip of the tentacle. Your mouth hangs open in awe as tongue meets tentacock. Shit. Should he get a trophy for some kind of lonely geek achievement for blowing himself? Or is that more of a general "I'm proud of you, son" achievement? You're a little unsure, especially when the tentacle wraps around the tip of Tavros's tongue and he lets out a whimper. His eyes go widen and he pulls his head up, a small trail of saliva still connecting his tongue and tip of the tentacle.

You hold your breath softly, hoping that he didn't hear you in the hallway. You close your eyes and hear the faint sounds of Halo and you exhale quietly. You're not out there yet. When you open your eyes again, you notice that Tavros has changed position, his ass listed slightly off the floor. He is looking around intently. You don't have to ponder long as he reaches out and grabs the smuppet on a stick that Bro always claimed was a plunger. You are eager to see what plans Tavros has for it. Maybe this can be added to the list of violations.

Tavros inspects the smuppet with a frown and you smirk, glad that your roommate disapproves as well. Maybe one day the two of you can DESTROY ALL SMUPPETS, but that day must wait. You watch intently as his fingers run the length of the handle, lingering on the tip. He takes in a deep breath and you unconsciously take one in unison with him. Carefully, he positions the tip of the handle at his back entrance and your eyes widen. Is he seriously going to just slide it in?

"hNNG,"

...Well, fuck. It seems so. He inserts only a little, but it is apparently enough for him to through his head back in ecstasy, his jaw thrown all the way open. Suddenly, you become aware of your hand in your boxers. Oh no. No no no. This isn't something that you can do. This isn't actually-

"hNNG, aAAH, d, dAVE, "

Against your will, your heart drops to your stomach and your erection throbs. You move over and hide completely behind the curtain again. You cannot find it in you to make a joke about how "all the ladies fap to this fine piece of strider ass even the freaky troll dudeladies" because this is entirely too real. You're far out of joking territory now. It seems your INTERNAL POKER FACE of LEVEL 46 is NOT GOOD ENOUGH, as you begin to freak out a little.

Why the fuck is this freaking you out? Get your head it the game. You take a deep breath to try to calm yourself. Maybe it's just that you haven't been able to get your wank on since that dofus began following you everywhere in this death bubble. Yes. That must be it. So, doing it now, just this once, should be excusable, right?

Your bubblemate's breath hitches and you reluctantly peek around the curtain again. You can no longer see where his tentacle is. You look down at his other hole and you hate yourself a little for beginning to salivate.

Is he fucking himself with a plunger and his own tentacle? What? Shit.

==> DAVE: Lean forward too far to get a better look and fall out of the shower.

No. Why the hell would you do that? That would DESTROY ALL HOPE of evidence collection. Remember? Evidence collection? You haven't forgotten that evidence collection is what this is all about. Still, it's true you can't see anything. You'll lean forward a little more but not enough to-

 _Thump._ Shit.

Tavros looks at you in horror, the plunger still sticking out of his ass and his cock shoved deep inside of him. You sit up and pick your sunglasses up off the floor, sliding them up your nose. You look up at him and shrug. Welp.

==>Tavros: be the porn star

You cannot be the porn star. You are far too mortified. If you were in a better place mentally, you might wonder what being the porn star entailed, but if you did, you would quickly come to the realization that it “wOULDN’T BE A TERRIBLY GOOD IDEA, pERHAPS,” especially considering that being the accidental porn star is what landed you in this predicament to begin with. Suddenly, something dawns on you.

 _He saw it._ Oh god oh god oh god.

You quickly snap your knees together, the plunger sliding out of your nook with a faint _pop._ To your aroused horror, Dave reaches out and calmly pulls your knees back apart, pinning them to the ground under his weight. In a second flat, his face is lingering mere inches from yours and you wonder how he got so fast.

“cmon bro cant just start the gun show and close up the exhibition as soon as the feds come through for inspection”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you wade past the verbosity and the implication registers in the back of your mind. He wants you to keep going. For a moment, the whole world stands still. Then his breath ghosts across your lips and suddenly your heart is everywhere; falling to your stomach, lodging itself in your throat, trying to deafen you with a loud set of _thump thump thumps_ in your ears. Every second passes like sweeps, and it feels like you’re spinning. It is as if you’re a grub again and time can’t go fast enough.

He looks down at your crotch again and his gaze sets you on fire. You can feel it consuming you, eating up every little shard of dignity you have left. You realize that there is no place left to hide. You try to back away out of instinct, but he tightens his grip on your knees and pins you in place. You feel like you’ve been added to some perverse collection of captured flutterbeasts, your wings spread and your soul bared under the microscope. You can no longer abscond.

“well the press is waiting in anticipation for that big release” His words hit your cheek in hot, breathy bursts and your stomach turns over twice. You try to turn your head away, but your horn hits against the door.

“w, wHAT,” His face looms in closer to yours and your mouth goes dry. You silently curse the rush of blood to your bulge when he begins to speak again, each word brushing his soft, moist lips against yours.

“they have cameras at the ready bro are you going to keep them waiting” When he finishes speaking, his lips still linger on yours, unmoving. You wonder if your back could be any stiffer and if you have ever been this nervous in your entire life.

“iS THAT SOME KIND OF HUMAN INNUENDO,” You find yourself saying each word carefully, reveling in each soft brush against his lips that every syllable brings you.

His teeth pull at your bottom lip and you whimper; this is the type of thing that causes heart attacks in guys like you. “dude do I have to spell shit out for you every time" He shook his head and the tip of his nose presses against yours. "did papabull never take you in the back stable and teach you about being a man”

The sound of your rapid heavy breathing is just about enough to compete with the pounding in your ears and you wonder if you will ever hear normally again. You don’t know what to say, you just wish that he would do that thing with his teeth again. “i, tHINK IT WOULD BE, nICE, iF WE MAYBE, uHH,”

==> Dave: Shut that boy up


	2. DAVE: Shut that boy up

With one finger you lift his chin, eyeing his Adam's apple as it trembles with his feeble attempts at communication. "what tav" 

Your body starts to tingle when he brings his arms up and wraps them tightly around your back in response. Is he shaking? Or is that you? _Surely it's him,_ your mind drawls, _You don't shake. That's not a thing that you do. Right?_ It's impossible to tell in this mess of awkward limbs that you've gotten yourself tangled into if that is or is not a thing that you do. Better throw this shit to Cold Case, this investigation is as fruitless as a rock garden.

What you do know that you are not close enough to him and that him holding you tighter would be very welcome; you also know that this desperation is not compliant with Striderian-approved levels of cool, and the popo might just have to make the arrest and shut this operation down.

==> Dave: Reclaim your cool

You have no interest in reclaiming your cool, as you are TOO HORNY TO CARE. Instead, you reach a compromise with your cool gland, leaning in close enough to graze your teeth down his throat. You barely succeed at holding in a tremor of excitement as he stiffens underneath you.

"if we uhh what" You murmur, nipping at his neck, and he cannot suppress a loud moan. You bring your hand up and clasp it over his mouth, his eyes growing wide in surprise.

You tug at his ear lobe with your teeth. Reward: one stifled whimper and a throbbing pulse in downtown Dave Dicktown. "i thought this inspection was going to keep going-" Your breath hitches. Fuck, his hands feel good on your back like that. Is that just from his nails scratching through your shirt? You arch your back involuntarily and wonder how long you can keep your composure.

"you gonna let me down and make me get a warrant for that illegal-" shit, what's a good metaphor for tentacle? You nip at his collar bone, gaining yet another soft moan. "whip-" oh yeah, real good one. Hold the phones. The President of the Euphemisms club just stepped down and demanded that you take his place.

 _Lick._ " hNNG,"

"that you're smuggling into the United Bubbleoplis of Stride-Nitram" Your free hand slides up his bare thighs. Goddammit, is his skin allowed to be this smooth?

Better call a doctor quickly before his panting gives you an even bigger case of the dick swelling blues. A shudder goes up your spine when you meet his desperate, begging eyes. It suddenly occurs to you that you hope he doesn't actually tell you what he wants- you just want to watch him whimper and stare at you in desperation as you try to wring it out of him.

==>Dave: Stop being a dick and kiss the boy/freaky troll dudelady/whatever

"d, dAVE, pLEASE," His jaw has gone slack and you can hear his loud, desperate, and, as always, raspy breathing. He should seriously see someone about that shit. Or correct it with his thoughts or something. Fuck if you know how these thought-driven fantasy bubbles work.

"what is it man you gotta spit it out before i break in and confiscate what youve got" His whimpers fill you with what feels like absolute power and you wonder how you never felt this before. Only one thing could make this better: if your trouser dachshund wasn't screaming for you to stick it in that sticky coppery mess he was packing downstairs. Fuck, maybe his tentacle could wrap around your... shit. Did you just swoon? Oh fuck no.

Tavros swallows hard and your eyes fall to his Adam's Apple again. Why is that so fascinating? "i THOUGHT THAT YOU SHOULD MAYBE, kISS ME, iNSTEAD OF, y, mMPH,"

A shiver runs down your spine as you happily comply. Is it supposed to feel this good to be-

 _Clink._ You painfully come to the realization that teeth are about as conducive to kissing as a cat in a top hat is to valet parking. You reel back and rub your teeth with the back of your hand. Fuck. That hurt. You look up and notice that he is holding his mouth as well.

==> Dave: Don't let it get to you

Carefully, you ply Tavros's hand away and watch as it goes slack at his side. You slip your fingers through his and he lets out a soft gasp. _Thump._ This has gone too fucking far. He leans up and tentatively rubs the tip of his nose against yours. Ba-dumb. Totally illegal. A hundred percent illegal. " mAYBE," _illegalillegalillegal_ , "aGAIN,"

Taking a deep breath, you press your foreheads together. You can feel the rapid pulse in the ashen hand in yours and his breath on your lips. This feels far better than you ever could have imagined it would. "where doin this bro"

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. Seriously? Have you never slipped that into conversation? Did he want to tap your ass without touching SBaHJ? Fuck it, it's irrelevant now. You lean in and kiss him again, taking note of the surprising softness of his lips. You wonder how they taste and just for a moment, you run your tongue along the bottom one. Tavros's lips part slightly with a moan and you take the opportunity to stab your tongue on his teeth.

 _Thud._ You are back to sitting on the ground again, nursing your wounded tongue and your wounded pride. " fuck bro what are you packing in there-- daggers?"

Shit, you should have figured this guy would be the worst kisser since Lickitung and Jack the Ripper's sad disgrace of a son.

==> DAVE: Consider that YOU are the bad kisser

You will only accept this proposition if you are IRONICALLY BAD at kissing. Considering this for a moment, you remember the second rule of the Strider household- "there is nothing ironic about not adequately tapping dat ass." Welp. Looks like that option is sunk. Not you. Can't be you. Must be him. Too bad.

You smack your lips and swallow the pooling puddle of blood in your mouth. Ugh. That's the good shit. Give the boy another hit of that, bartender. Last shot of the night, it seems. Looks like we're done here. You chalk it up to a failed, almost cliche (but with way too much tentacle) teenage sexuality experiment, now wiped from memory. Nothing to see here, officer, move along.

You stand to go and hit your head on the sink. "FUCK" Cradling your head in your hands, you fall back down onto the floor. Hard. On your ass. Fuck. Tavros leans up on his knees and reaches out, rubbing your temples. "dAVE ARE YOU OK," His fingers brush against your hairline and, even through all the pain, your crotch pulses in short morse code bursts do want. Fuck. It hurts too much for you to even wonder how you understand morse code. Maybe it's just what you think it's saying every time it pulses like that.

"yeah man just" You flinch, as if that would shake off your sudden headache mixed with an overdose of desire. "ill be fine in a second bro" You look up at the source of all this pain and want, jarred to find a doofy smile playing at his lips. "what the hell are you grinning about" Your hands push his out of the way and you begin rubbing your own temples. His fingers tangle in with the back of your hair and you involuntarily lean into the touch, "is this about your hate boner bro do you like seeing me try to bash my skull in with a healthy dose of porcelain"

"nO i DON'T, hATE YOU," He shuffles nervously and looks aside, "iT'S JUST THAT YOU ARE A LITTLE CLUMSY AND i gUESS i AM A LITTLE PLEASANTLY SURPRISED, Shit. He's right. Your clumsy shenanigans as of late have been piling up in a huge mound of IRREVOCABLE EVIDENCE. The dweeb might be rubbing off on you, but the fact of the matter is that, without your Bro around to train you 24/7, your coordination has started to slip. You realize with a sudden dripping alarm that the evidence might just be pointing to your absolute ineptitude at kissing. Your descent from Mt. Coolympius when the doofus stammers, "i WAS ACTUALLY THINKING THAT WE SHOULD GO SLOWER, aND mAYBE, wE COULD TRY IT WITH OUR MOUTHS CLOSED THIS TIME,"

You try to shoot him an incredulous look, but he just continues to stare at you eagerly, rubbing the nape of your neck softly. "uM, aLSO, cOULD YOU LOOK AT ME," Don't comply. Don't comply. It's a trap it's a- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, you complied. You dunkass. You deserve him sliding your shades off. Don't even try to grab them back and make yourself look more desperate and uncool. That's right, you deserve to shiver and feel naked without them. You asked for this by breaking the first rule of the Strider household- "you do not think about Strider household rules." You can worry about why that's a thing later and how that even makes an ounce of sense by breaking the rule again. Later.

You sigh and watch as he sets your shades up on your new sink nemesis. Resigning, you chuckle at your absolute helplessness in this situation and wonder if it falls under Alanis Moreisette's definition of Irony. Fuck, couldn't anything? "first you jack off in your bros home and then you steal his shades"

Fuck your heart for fluttering when you make eye contact with him. You force a poker face again, wondering how long it will even hold up this time. "rude nitram"

His face falls. Is he considering what absolute bullshit all of this is? "i GUESS SO, bUT i THINK YOU MIGHT WANT THIS, tOO,"

When did your mouth turn into a cotton factory? Well, at least it doesn't taste like blood anymore. He looks at you eagerly, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "oR MAYBE i WAS, uHH, mISTAKEN,"

"fuck nitram seriously" Did your voice just crack? God fucking dammit. Talking to these doofuses is so much easier via text. They don't know when they've gotten to you then.

He pulls his fingers from the nape of your neck and your heart drops for what feels like the millionth time since you came into the bathroom. Defeat hasn't written itself that pitifully across someones face since Napoleon's at Waterloo. "just keep hitting me with the advice man"

His throat clicks and you wonder what the fuck is wrong now. Whatever. He was probably just too derpy to understand what you were saying. You lean in and kiss him again softly, hoping that gives him a clue. Your tongue attempts to pry his lips apart and he presses his hand at your chest. What the hell.

"i DON'T MEAN TO INTERRUPT, uHH, bUT WHEN i KISSED THIS GIRL BEFORE, iT FELT PRETTY GOOD, yOU KNOW, wITHOUT THE TONGUE,"

Shit. He's kissed someone before? General Strider, come in for your debriefing. You made a fool of us out there in the field and we have no choice but to strip you of your wings. That's right, it doesn't matter what kind of shit you went through in Nam, you're out of duty, son.

"i HOPE YOU DON'T TAKE THIS AS A MEAN THING, bUT i THINK YOU KISSED ME A LITTLE TOO, hARD, uHH, aND IT FELT LIKE YOUR TONGUE WAS, iNVADING MY MOUTH, "

You are at a loss for words, and your jaw drops a little in awe. It is more than a little ironic that this dweeb is better than you and your IRONY GAMBIT is over 9000 (That is, if you had such a thing, which, ironically, you do not). He grabs your wrists and looks up at you nervously. The look alone is making you a little dizzy. Congratulations, you have just hit the absolute bottom rung of the sexual echeladder, somewhere below Homely Prematurater. "mAY i MAYBE SHOW YOU, tHE WAY i WAS THINKING OF,"

Quicker than you can shrug and spout out some line about how you're the swooning little virgin here, his lips are against yours. This time, it's different. This time, it makes you lose your concentration and get a little dizzy from the contact high. You bring a hand up and grip his shirt, pulling him into you a little more. His fingers run through the back of your hair and it's as if everything around you has gone dark. His lips are the only thing you can feel and you think that isn't such a bad thing. He deepens the kiss you clear your throat to suppress a gasp. When your tongues do meet, it's in short, delicate brushes that leave you hungry for more. He pulls away, but instinctively you pull him in for more, straddling his legs and running your fingers along his horns.

You begin grinding against his-

You pull away and look down at his dick, which is rubbing against your belly button. He grips the back of your shirt and takes in a labored breath, "i HOPE THIS ISN'T WEIRD FOR YOU, bUT i THINK IT WOULD BE A NICE THING IF YOU MAYBE, dIDN'T HAVE YOUR PANTS ON TOO,"

You smirk and lean in to kiss him again, but he presses his hand firmly against your chest once more. "sup"

"oR, MAYBE YOUR SHIRT, oR SOMETHING,"

"kind of a boring story for me down there bro"

==>Dave's Spam Porpoise: Make the boy stop stalling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. I can't believe I did that. I thought I was clicking the "delete chapter" button. Please let me know if I have any typos, etc, since I had to revert to an older version. Thank you guys for all your kind comments, bookmarks, and kudos on the old version <3 Anyway, this has since been updated on the kinkmeme if you are eager for more NOW. (http://homesmut.livejournal.com/6376.html?thread=10295016#t10295016)


	3. DAVE'S SPAM PORPOISE: Stop the boy from stalling

As a One-Eyed Trouser Snake, you do not take orders. You just take STIMULATION. You also take BLOOD to ensure that you become UNCOMFORTABLY ENGORGED. You are currently at that state and slightly annoyed at your KISMESIS, a devious foe known as DAVE'S BOXERS. You attempt to twitch, but your LOVING GOD AND MASTER, Dave Strider, does not seem to find the need to free you. Woe onto you, oh uncomfortably hard one. What choice do you have but continue your throbbing vigil in hopes that He who is good will free you from your plight?

==> Dave: Stop that Throbbing

You would like to stop the throbbing, but your confidence meter as fallen to critical status. This has induced a status slowing spell known as NERVES and has made you a MASTER OF STALLING. As part of your master plan, you move your lips to Tavros's neck and begin to suck. "i AM GOING TO TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS," Your heart skips a beat. Fuck. That was sexy to hear. "iF THAT'S OK," You smirk at the addition of the last line.

"sure bro i shouldnt have tried coming to this party with pants anyway" The thought you have as he works your button upon and undoes your fly is _god his smile is too fucking innocent for what hes asking for._ As he's working off your boxers and skinny jeans, you begin thinking about where this is going. All this shit in one day is a little bit too much for you. Holy fuck. Is he seriously going to deflower you with his sticky squid leg? Is that what all the thumping was about? When your pants are all the way off of you, you don't even try to think anymore. You just hold your breath, waiting. And waiting. Aaaaaaaand waiting. And... ok, you can't hold it any longer. How long is he just going to loom over your crotch without doing anything?

"i know its a magnificent specimen man but my cock doesnt start spewing sweet spunk just by being ogled alone" You wait for some kind of response, but Tavros continues to stare at your junk intently. "seriously bro i know i dont have a tripped out tentacock for all your hentai fantasy needs but just looking is sending me down turnoff lane for a quick jaunt into never-talking-about-this-again-ville"

He lets out a squeaked "sORRY dAVE," and shoot his hand out with a little bit too much finesse to grip your-

"OH MY GOD LET GO FUCK" He releases his death grip on your balls and the aftermath of the pain is still shuddering down your spine. He's looking at you in terror. He's pulled his hands back against his chest and... is he pouting? Oh jegus. He's like a fucking dog that bit down on your leg and then laid down at your feet looking up at you with the most sincere 'you don't hate me, do you man? Because I love you!' expression that you just can't resist.

It suddenly seems a lot quieter in the bathroom and you remember why when you realize that the loud booming of virtual gunshots is no longer sweeping through your living room. Oh fuck, you screaming at the vice of torture on your balls was the loud noise you had heard that made you pause the game. How close to the door had past you gotten by this point? Fuck, you don't remember. "dAVE, wHA-" You cover his mouth with your hand and gently "ssh" him. Eying the crack in the door, you curse silently to yourself that you can't see anything from this angle. Tav is looking at you with a question in his eyes and you figure that you should probably tell him.

You lean in and begin whispering in his ear. "ok man so heres the thing" When you were in the hall, you had never heard yourself making noises- or at least you didn't think so. You were sure you had never heard yourself talking. _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._ What if this is an unstable time loop? Could you die again? Why the HELL did you even still have time powers anyway. Your mind spun at the implications. " past me is in the hallway and we cant talk anymore" You wonder what kind of expression Tavros was wearing. "im going to drop my hand now"

As soon as your hand leaves his lips, he whispers "uH, wHAT," Seriously? Your hand comes up and clamps over his mouth again, "ok man talking is exactly the opposite of what i just told you to do" Seriously, this kid is thicker than the Collected Works of Glenn Beck. "shut up bro the fbi has come to take your booty away"

Into your hand, the muffled letters "f, b, i," are muttered and you desperately yearn to bring your other hand up to smack your forehead. "just try to be quiet" You tentatively remove your hand from his lips and he nods. You pull back and he leans forward past your shoulder and starts whispering into your ear, "iS IT OK IF WE MAYBE, uHH, cONTINUE,"

Your eyebrow shoots up and you wonder if he secretly has a thing for being overheard or seen in the act. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and his other arm wraps around your waist. You lean into the touch and rest your chin on his shoulder. With each raspy breath, his chest and yours collide and you bring your arms up to circle around him. It's not like you have much choice in continuing or not. You know what you heard. "yeah"

Did he just giggle? God dammit. He's such a chick.

==>Dave: Shit, son, you better be the New World cause that boy's Columbus

 _Thud._ Your back collides with the floor and Tavros looms above you, his glossy white eyes scanning your face quickly before immediately shooting down to your groin. Hopy shit, stop being nervous, your mind reminds you to no avail as you watch Tavros eagerly surveying your crotch. _Oh sweet jegus._ You wonder how many dumbass questions he has pent up about your junk. At least they will have to wait for some other time. _Other time?_ You push the question to the back of your mind when his fingers tentatively stroke the head of your semi-erect cock.

Electric pulses through your body and you tense, thrusting up into the touch. Tavros pauses momentarily, looking up at your face again in awe. You nod, hoping that the production won't stop every time you make a sudden move. Thankfully, he takes it as a go ahead, his fingers drag slowly down the length of your cock and your hand reaches out to grasp his forearm. He looks down at you and cocks his head in question, but you simply thrust up into his hand. Thank gog he got the fucking point this time, you think as his fingers travel back up and down the length of your cock once more.

The rough callouses on the tips of his fingers slide over the head of your erection and you shudder, letting out a soft whimper. His eyes widen and he looks up at you like he just hit the fucking jackpot and you're spewing the god damn quarters. One of his fingers trails across the head again and you arch into the touch.

He brings his other hand up and his fingers tangle through your pubes. "agh" you yelp as his claws poke at the hilt of your cock. He retracts his hand with such speed that you wonder if you should have been taking your speed lessons from him rather than Bro. Tavros looks down at you with wide, nervous eyes and you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck and pulling him closer to you, you ghost your lips over his ear. “watch the daggers bro i don't want the cockpocaplyse coming down on me”

For good measure, you tug softly on his ear with your teeth and he whimpers. Your fingers wrap around his hand and slowly bring it to your cock. Your breath hitches as he slowly slides his fingertips up and down the length again. His breath hisses into your ear and you lean closer to it, savoring the sensation."uHH, hOW DO YOU, yOU KNOW,"

Normally you'd give him some kind of shit for that line; how the fuck are you to know what he wants? But now is not the time for bullshit, now is the time to stop the cock tease. "mostly magic and miracles" Never mind. There you go again. Your cock is betrayed by your mind, ready to turn you in for treason.

His hand stops moving and you let out a soft whimper, keening up into his touch."cOULD YOU, sHOW ME,"

Your fingers wrap around his and begin sliding his hand up and down yet again. You let out a soft shuddering breath of relief. "show you what" _Fuck, that came out sounding like you were some chick in a soft core porn being way too desperate to make this shit sound real._

"hOW, yOUR BULGE WORKS," The last part is barely audible and you wonder how he can still be shy about what you're doing.

You speed up the pace of his hand and tug at his earlobe with your teeth. _Jegus, do you actually like having it withheld from you?_ You answer your mind with a soft shrug. You can have an existential crisis about your kinks at a later time. " are your seriously asking me to spank it for you"

"uHH, yOU MEAN YOU HAVE TO SLAP IT FOR IT TO WORK," You smirk and slide your hand off of his,tangling your fingers through the back of his mohawk.

"yeah man you know beating your meat"

"sO IF I JUST," Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he brings his hand up and it dawns on you that he actually is going to slap you on the dick. Your hand shoots out and grabs his wrist before he brings his slap-happy wrath down on you.

"fuck no dont man" You sigh and smirk lazily, your mind happening upon what must be yet another one of your kinks. "look ill show you, a show for a show." You push gently on his chest, nipping at his neck and soliciting a moan. He looks at you eagerly when you pull your mouth away.

Welp. Guess it's business time.

==>Dave:Do it like they do on ~~the Discovery Channel~~ Late-night HBO

Your eyes meet his as you wrap your fingers around your erection and you can feel a dirty smirk spreading across your face. “are you watching closely and taking notes on this shit tav” You slowly begin to pump and grit your teeth to hold in a gasp.

His raspy breath becomes labored and he can't tear his eyes away from the slow cadence of your hand sliding up and down your shaft. You stifle a moan in your throat, all too cognizant of your past self listening it up in the hallway and secretly loving his ignorance. Too bad this shit can't be a proper show. How far can you push yourself without exploding of sheer desire? _Shit, son, let's find the fuck out._

You slide a finger over the head of your cock, smearing small beads of precum down your length, every nerve in your body standing on end and begging for stimulation. You arch up off the floor and bring your teeth down onto your lip. You begin to pump faster,looking up at him again to make sure he's still watching. You swallow hard when you realize his eyes are on your face, drinking in what is surely some kind of dirty expression. Somewhere in the back of your head, your mind screams to bask in the moment and you are all too happy to comply.

Slowly, you throw your head back and let your mouth fall open, reveling in the dark copper blush that spreads across his cheeks. You bring your other hand up and cup your balls softly, before sliding it slowly behind them and pressing against your taint. You arch your back and skid slightly against the bathroom floor. It seems your clientèle barely noticed your slow migration across the floor and you notice his hand is hovering like the fucking mother ship ready to come in for a fucking member abduction.

Reluctantly, you take your hand away and wait intently for- what now. His fingers wrap around your erection and you grind your hips up into his hand. He stays still, bringing his other hand up to brush softly against your balls- holy shit that is fucking nice- down across your taint and... oh jesus. Not again. His fingers play at your asshole and you watch him like a hawk. The idea of his nails close to your asshole, penetrating it... you shiver. The boy is an awkward set of jagged angles and sharp points that you don't need fucking you up.

His hand begins to move up and down your shaft and you thrust into his hand,begging him to go faster. With one hard thrust, his nails simultaneously dig into your abdomen and your ass cheeks. "ah! fuck bro" Quickly, you push his hands off of you and he looks down in confusion. To your relief, instead of being an idiot and attempting to speak aloud, he leans down and whispers softly, “iS THERE SOMETHING WRONG dAVE,”

Oh god. When did he start saying your name like you were some kind of delicate flower that he didn't want to tread on. When the hell did you start liking it? “its fine man just humans arent into getting their junk fucked up when theyre getting kinky” His breath stops and you snap your head to the side, succeeding in pressing your face against his. He rubs his cheek against yours and you wonder if every little thing now turns you on. Pretty soon, you'll be jizzing in your pants from him looking at you all kawaii uguu desu desu.

“yOU ARE TALKING ABOUT MY NAILS, rIGHT,” Give the kid a fucking medal. He's just progressed to the level where he can finally follow a not-so-naive thread of conversation. He deserves the Purple fucking Tentacle or Blood Pumper or whatever the fuck.

“yeah dont worry about it bro well try again some time when we get you declawed” You start to chuckle and suddenly feel extremely rigid. You're in your body, but it's as if you have no fucking control. You attempt to open your mouth and fail, panic mode setting in. _Oh man oh god, oh god oh man._

Tavros begins to speak again and you can feel your lips moving with his. “i CAN USE YOUR HAND, yOU KNOW,”

He pulls away and looks at you with a smile, your hand slowly working its way down to your crotch. He leans in again and you shiver as your fingers- _can you even call them yours at this point? You're moving so fucking awkwardly that it's foreign_ \- and your lips move with his words. “iS THAT GOING TO BE A GOOD SOLUTION,”

He pulls back and looks at your face. His eyebrows are arched suggestively, his lips parted and looking oddly kissable, his eyelids half-drawn... Goddammit, he shouldn't be allowed to look that sexy. Then, his expression falls once more to adorkable as sudden control of your body returns and muscles that you didn't even know you had fall into more comfortable positions. “oOPS, sORRY dAVE, ” He looks aside, talking a mile a minute in a slur of breathy words, “i NEVER TRIED IT ON A HUMAN BEFORE,sO i DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AND THEN I KIND OF ALMOST RAPED YOU AND-”

“woah woah woah slow down man" You shift uncomfortably, trying to get used to your own skin again, your head still veering as you try to piece together what the hell just commandeered your body. "do what”

“i CAN KIND OF, uHH, cONTROL NON-TROLLS AND I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE A NICE THING SINCE MY NAILS ARE SHARP AND I DIDN'T WANT TO HURT YOU, bUT IT JUST WAS A WEIRD THING AND-”

"wait that was you with some kind of freaky alien powers" your heart skips a beat and your erection throbs at the thought of total lack of self control.

"yEAH BUT i WON'T DO IT AGAIN, iT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE TO-"

“do it bro it's fine” He stops talking and looks at you in shock. Slowly, the corners of his mouth turn up into soft smile.

“oH, oKAY,” Suddenly, you surrender your ability to move again and you think it might be fucked up, but you've never been more turned on in your life.

==> Tavros: Be Dave while Dave is Dave.

You think this is, uhh, a little hard to do, considering this is the first time you've ever really used your powers for something like this. It would have been a little weird to do it before now though, and maybe you even feel a little bit odd about doing it now. But, this time, you kind of need it to make your maybe matesprit- _that's what he is now, right?_ \- feel safe and good and be able to, you know, pail properly. For the first time ever, you feel completely in control of your situation and it is making the floor beneath you into one fine orange, gooey mess.

This communing thing can get a little weird, mostly because you just think about what you want the non-troll to do and it normally does it, but humans are complicated. Communing with Dave makes your body feel weird, and your mind feel something a little bit like confidence...? You're not quite sure about that one. What you do know is that you want to pleasure him. And you know that you can do it, sans claws.

Slowly, you trail Dave's hand down his body and wrap it around his bulge, just like you watched him do before. Translucent genetic material glistens against his length and you watch as you slowly glide his hand over it again and again. _He could maybe use some help to go faster._

You reach his hand out, and bury his fingers in your nook. You let out a harsh, clicking whine that you didn't even know you could make. _Squelch squelch squelch._ His fingers slide in and out of your nook and your throat continues to click in pleasure. Your eyes return to his expression and you frown, noticing that his expression just mirrors your own. This is not quite the solution you wanted. You try to cede some control to the boy, but just succeed in making him look constipated.

His fingers slide out of your nook and you look down at his orange slime coated hand with only a small twinge of embarrassment. You can feel your pulse soar as he trails it down his bulge, around that fleshy sac, up against his dry nook, and begins to pump again. You sigh and give him back control of his body, your breath hitching as you watch his eyes roll back in a silent scream as he falls into a more natural position.

==> Controlled Dave: Revel in the aforementioned actions

Your hand slides down your cock and you want more than anything to scream out in pleasure. Never has masturbating felt this good. Even that time when you stole some of Bro's lube, perused through a couple of porn sites, and beat off while penetrating yourself with your finger, striking your prostrate over and over again until you were numb from the pleasure, it didn't feel this good. No, this was far more amazing.

The inability to change the pressure, the speed, the cadence, or even to pant, to thrust, to scream, rather all of the pleasure just building up in your mind as you can do nothing but feel the sensation made you feel on fire. Then he buried your hand deep in his- what the fuck is that even- _who cares_. What matters is the idea of him using you to get off, thrusting and whining as he rode your hand, covering it in a fine film of fluid is almost too much to bear. And then he made you smear it on your cock- holy fucking jesus.

==>Dave:Regain control

Pleasure spasms through your body and you are too far gone. Arching off the floor, you just have to keep going. You continue to slide your hand up your erection, barely thinking about the way you're panting at the amazing feel of his lube on you. There is no give, nothing in the way, just your hand pumping faster, faster, faster, down your length and-

Something hot and wet pokes at your anus and you let out a whine. Really? God fucking dammit, calm down, Fido. Your eyes shoot down between your legs and you meet his eyes. He looked happier than Mr. Rogers singing about his boner for having neighbors, but in a way far more inappropriate than could ever be conveyed by anyone in a sweater vest. His rough tongue pokes at your ass again and your head snaps back as you stifle a moan in your throat. Your vision caves as his tongue pushes into you and you realize that you're panting. His saliva drips down your thighs, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers wrap around your ankles, pulling your feet over his shoulders, his tongue buried deep in your ass.

Suddenly, you lose control of your body again and you wonder how much longer you can last. His tongue thrusts into your ass and you pump your hand agonizingly slow around your cock. Holy shit, you can feel it. This is it. Your body begins tensing automatically and all you can feel are his hot tongue burying itself deep in your asshole, his saliva dripping down to your cock, your hand pumping away.

It's all too much and you shoot hot bursts of white cum down your favorite shirt. He lets you slowly slide down his chest and you can barely feel your body. He is looking down at you with concern. “what“ you pant, a little too breathlessly.

“yOU'RE DONE, aLREADY,” He whispers in soft confusion.

You blink. _What the fuck. Why would you still be going after he did all that to you?_

==> Dave: Somehow finish the Troll Energizer Bunny

He continues to look down at you with furrowed eyebrows. You attempt to move, quickly realizing that post-orgasm bliss has you practically paralyzed. Your senses slowly return to normal and you can make out the sound of your own panting. _It's official, dude, you're totally just a chick with a dick. Almost like that guy, except with less to show for it. Way less. Even his tentasheath wins the bigger dick prize._ Not that you should beat yourself up for it, but, hey, now you know, once you go gray, you're here to stay.

You use what energy you have to smirk weakly, the corners of your mouth faltering like every firm on Wall Street when the market crashes to zero and the apocalypse looms. You eye his junk once more, your mouth going dry as you realize that you have to deal with _that_ \- however the fuck that ancient Chinese finger puzzle works. You barely have enough energy left in you to thrust your hips up, let alone do whatever freaky thing you need to do in order to get that huge, throbbing tentadick to writhe back into its bony cock-shaped sheath. Welp. You guess it's time to grab big, or go home.

You bring your hand up to get this freaky tentacle party started- Lalonde would approve, for sure, you have to get her on this tentacle shit pronto- but it falls right back into place as your body decides _sssh only tingling bliss now sssh._

“dAVE, aRE YOU OKAY,” Tavros whispers, his eyes wide and frantic. He leans over you and pulls you into a tight embrace, crushing you against his lithe chest. How'd he know you've been hankering for a hearty helpful of cotton shirt up your nose since this whole sausage fest kicked off?

You gather all your energy to cling to him, but it feels almost like your arms are asleep. You roll your eyes, biting your tongue to keep your comments to yourself, tossing around a "way to fuck me till I can't even move, good job soldier, you're the fucking sex god of the afterlife. it's you" in the back of your head. You let your jaw go slack and close your eyes, reveling in the fading sensation of ecstasy rushing out of your body, your nerves slowly deciding that feeling things other than HOLY SHIT IT'S GO TIME is more than alright with you.

“yeah dont get your tentacle in a knot man im just caught in the throes of homolust following the best spooging of the century” You open your eyes, looking up at his face. He's looking at you with a look of slight confusion, his lips parted and looking so fucking moist that Cake Baronesses everywhere should be scrambling to box up his secrets. Your eyes travel down his body and notice that same orange fluid that sent you into this paralysis tizzy dripping out of his entrance. “so youre pretty wet huh man” You lick your lips, control slowly returning to your body. "do you make that shit every time"

"yEAH, i DO,"

“perfect” You mutter under your breath. Reaching out, you seize his dick and smirk as he tightly clenches his eyes shut. The slick, pulsing tentacle wraps tightly around your wrist as a blush spreads across his face. Tentatively, you run a finger across one of the bumps and your throat goes dry. _Those are going to feel fucking amazing next time._ You can't even find it in you to argue with your thoughts. Of course you're doing this shit again, you swear to it; forever and ever a-fucking-men.

A thought suddenly occurs to you and your pulse soars out of control. Now that you have your wits back and are no longer blinded by the carnal need to shut this boy up, you finally can enjoy your ability to steer this bull to the edge of the rodeo ring and have him buck off into the crowds with wild abandon at your whim.

...if that's what they do with bulls at rodeos. _Who cares?_

You voice drops to low and sultry, your teeth nipping at his ear once more. "get up and bend over the sink" He pulls back and stares at you and you nod. His tentacle uncurls from your wrist, leaving behind a coating of fluid.

You watch as his Adam's Apple-or Troll Adamat's Sweet Seed Growing on a certain type of Leaf-bearing Shrubbery or whatever the fuck they call it- bob slowly up and down as he gets up and complies. He stares at the sink momentarily before pressing against it with the front of his hips and bending slightly at the waist, his legs spread apart and his juices running down his thighs. The tentacle writhes between his legs and you are floored by how huge that thing is. You admire the bumps on the exterior with your eyes again and look up to see that he is looking over his shoulder at you, expectantly. “iS THIS, oKAY,”

"yeah its a great view, just spread your legs a little farther apart bro." If you had pants on, now would be a great time to jizz in them. Well, except that you already came. You may be a teenager, but you're still human. Still, there is no denying that your sex drive just jumped from zero to sixty in no fucking time flat and you are ready to ravish that shit.

==>Dave: Grab the tentacle, be the Hentai Babe.

Standing, you bend over him, slightly annoyed at the few inches he has on you. The boy's just bigger everywhere. Want your kids to start growing? Fuck the hormones in beef. Injecting yourself with troll hormones is the real way to go.

Your hand slides between his thighs, seizing his writhing tentacle. Your heart skips a beat as you feel a shudder rock his body. Pressing against him like this, skin to skin, should have been how you were playing this game all along, you decide. Next time, there would be no shirts, that's for fucking sure. The tip of his cock caresses your wrist slowly and you wonder just how bad he wants it right now. Maybe you could grab that plunger again and fuck him into the counter with it, letting his dick dance up and down your forearm until he couldn't take it any longer. How long would it take for him to demand you give him a pail? How much could one troll even hold? You smirk and begin to pump your hand slowly. He lets out a soft moan.

Wracked with indecision about how exactly to play yank the tentajunk, you perch on the tips of your toes so that your lips barely reach his ears. “are you going to teach me how to milk you or is this farmer going to lose all his sexual frustration profit and have to shut down the sexin farm?”

“uHH, wHAT,” He stammers. _Rightfully so, that metaphor got a little bit away from you._ You tighten your grip and he lets out a yelp. You hear a shuffling in the hallway and know you're still out there, trying to apprehend yourself. The only thing that could make this better is if that bastard was in here watching. You guess you can keep up Radio Show XXX brought to you by dream doors and listeners like you. You roll his tentacle in your hand and he lets out a soft whimpering plea.

“i said tell me how this shit works so I can help you get your pail on,” You feel him go stiff at pail and you wonder how far you can take talking dirty about pails when you don't even quite know what they're for. You run your hand up and down his length again, bringing your other hand up and sliding one finger into his seed flap.

“aHH, yES, lIKE THAT,” He pants and you grin. You pump a little harder, your fingers curling inside of him as he lets out another squeak of approval. Whatever it is that you're fingerfucking right now feels amazing. You push against his walls and he yelps. It's a little more shallow than you would have anticipated it. It gets exponentially tighter the deeper you shove in your fingers and your dick twitches in interest. Something that hot, tight, and wet? You're signed up. Fuck, you run the mailing list, the fan club, and the Official Borough for the Protection of Troll Male Pussy.

Suddenly, the mental image of him fucking himself resurfaces and heat coils in your abdomen. “hey tav” Your voice sounds foreign to you, infused with far too much lust to truly be your own, “hNNG,” he moans and you decide that's probably the best you're going to get for an answer. “do you fuck yourself with this huge dick often-” your hand slides a little faster up the length for emphasis and he bites back a moan. “do you fill yourself up and really go to fucking town on yourself”

“d, dAVE,” He moans in hushed plea and you wonder if it's a request to stop or to keep going. He thrusts back into your hand and you know all systems are go. "does it make you feel like a slut to bone yourself and moan with each bump thrusting in and out of you?" You make a face when you say the word 'slut.' You decide it's not really you. He whimpers again. “do you ever cum inside yourself? see how full you can pump this tight fucking mess you are packing back here?”

“w, wHAT,” He pants, his eyes focused intently on the porcelain beneath his hands. It's official. You're completely out of bounds. You would say that you need to hand over your position as THE LAW, but any good law enforcer knows that you have to break that which you enforce sometimes. It's just a perk of the position, along with donuts, free crack, and speeding through red lights.

"do you use yourself as a pail-” His head shoots up in alarm and he grazes his horns against the mirror. _Screeeeeeeeeeech_

Your eyes twitch as his hand shoots up to rub the scratch he left behind. "uHH, sHIT," He says aloud and it almost sounds like his voice is booming throughout the bathroom. You hadn't noticed how quiet the two of you were being. That ends now.

You grind your hips into his and he yelps, his eyes focusing once more on the sink. You bury your fingers deeper and deeper inside of him, pumping his tentacle quickly as the tip slaps against your wrist. “hNNG,” Yes, you are feeling a million times better about this. “p, pAIL,” He pants wetly, the distinct sound of slurping accompanying his request.

With fervor, you drive three fingers deep inside him and he whines something that sounds distinctly like "pail" each time you thrust your fingers back in again. You begin fisting his tentacle harder and he lets out a small whining scream, "no way dude"

He shudders against you, his cock wrapping itself agitated about your wrist, "p, pLEASE, dA, dAVE," He finally manages to squeak out.

You nip at his ear and he lets out a chirp. You smirk at the sound. "cum in my hand." He whimpers and you can tell he's getting close from the way his tentacle is coiling tighter and tighter around your wrist, threatening to cut off circulation.

"aAH, dAVE," You pull your hand out of his seed flap and grab one of his horns, pulling his head up. His eyes snap open and he looks at himself in the mirror, clenching his eyes shut again, copper blush staining his cheeks.

“look at yourself when you cum” You hold fast to his horn and watch as his glossy white eyes slide open reluctantly to study his expression in the mirror. You drink it in yourself; the parted lips, the fine coating of sweat on his forehead, the desperate furrow of his eyebrows. You can tell he wants to look away, but the idea of him looking at himself is just making him hotter.

“hNNG, aAAAH,” A wave of hot cum pours out of the tip of his bulge and you jump in surprise as a large load of cum hitting the cabinet under the sink with a loud _Thud._ You smirk and continue pumping him as he studies his own O-face in the mirror, a series of _thud thud thuds_ greeting your ears as he cums against the cabinets. And keeps coming against the cabinets. Aaaand...

You look down at the floor and grimace when you see the puddle of orange cum forming at your feet. _Nasty bro._

With a contented sigh and innumerable minutes of hard cumming, his tentacle unravels from your wrist and he sinks to the floor, panting.

==>Dave: Survey the Mess at your Feet

Mess? What mess? You're pretty sure this bathroom has always been completely squeaky clean. The only thing that might be considered a mess is your bubblemate, sprawled out in post-orgasmic bliss on your bathroom floor. With a sigh, you stand up and grab your shades, sliding them back up your nose. With a thought, your clothes change to a clean pair. You turn to leave, stopping only when a gray hand reaches out and limply tugs on the tail of your shirt.

"cOULD WE MAYBE, aGAIN," He struggles out between labored pants.

You turn and cock on eyebrow. This is going to be a long fucking afterlife and you think you're pretty down with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your kudos and feedback! They mean a lot! This was a long PWP. Far longer than I anticipated. Haha. I hope you guys enjoyed it. It was my first homestuck fanfiction! Not to mention, my first smut from second person POV. I hope it was ok! It's a little surreal that I'm finished writing this...now I'm at a bit of a loss what to write next... hmm hmm


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